


A Farther Shore

by babs



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, hurt/comfort bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-11 05:17:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19527268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babs/pseuds/babs
Summary: Written for my hurt/comfort bingo prompt of Burns





	A Farther Shore

A Farther Shore

"You cannot swim for new horizons until you have courage to lose sight of the shore."  
― William Faulkner 

Sam followed the three stretchers through the Gate—arrived on the ramp in the SGC, shaking and lost.

Daniel's stretcher was already loaded on a gurney, surrounded by medical personnel. She could hear Janet yelling orders, calling for immediate transport to the Academy Hospital and the burn unit.

The other two stretchers were laid on the floor. General Hammond looked at her—his face registering what she was sure was a mirror of her own shock and loss.

Colonel O'Neill's and Teal'c's bodies were sealed in body bags but she swore she could still smell the burned flesh. She knew she could still see their mangled bodies.

"Major Carter?"

"Women weren't allowed to travel with the men. They went ahead—there was a crash—fire—-." She began to shake. "I saw it, sir. I tried. I tried to save them. We all did." 

Someone moved closer, put a blanket over her shoulders and led her away. But even as she left, she could still see those two body bags on the floor of the Gateroom. She didn't know if she'd ever forget.

* * * * 

Sam looked through the window, tears wet on her cheeks. It had been two weeks since the last mission and Daniel, the only one left of her team, lay fighting for his life.  
"Janet," she acknowledged as her friend came beside her.

"He's hanging on," Janet said. She didn't look at Sam. "His vitals are better. Doctor Jacobs is pleased with his progress."

Sam put a hand to the window, studied Daniel's bandaged body, noted with detachment the way his left arm ended a few inches above the wrist, the ventilator, the bandages over his face and eyes, and his legs. "He's..."

"Sam..." Janet began.

"He's blind, Janet. How's he going to deal with that? How's he going to deal with the loss of Colonel O'Nell and Teal'c?" Sam spat out. "He's lost everything."

Janet grabbed her arm, forced her to meet her steely gaze. "He has not. He still has you, Sam. Don't you dare shut him out."

Sam nodded even as she looked back at her friend, the man she considered more a brother than her own. "Then let me try to save him."  
She held Janet's gaze. "Let me try the Tok'ra healing device," she pleaded. "You said I wasn't strong enough before but I know I can do it."

* * * *

"Sam." Daniel was sitting on the side of his bed, one of the nurses getting him ready for transport to the therapy room. He gave her a lopsided smile.

"You know that freaks me out every time," Sam said as she moved closer and pressed a kiss to his hair. "How do you know it's me?"

"You always come at the same time. And you always hesitate by the doorway." 

"You ready, Doctor Jackson?" the nurse said.

Daniel nodded and put his arms over Marcus' shoulders. "Ready."

"On three," the nurse said and helped Daniel transfer to the wheelchair.

Daniel turned his head to face Marcus. "Thanks." He shifted and then turned to Sam. "They had to change my session today."

"I can..." Sam hesitated, still unsure of how to deal with Daniel. "If I'm allowed, I can take you to PT."

"Sam'll do it," Daniel said to Marcus. He held up his right hand. "I solemnly swear that Sam will not turn me over or get us involved in a race."

Sam laughed as did the nurse and she took the handles of the chair with a grin.

"Thanks," Daniel said as they traveled the hall. "I wanted to ask if you'd like to have dinner with me tonight."

"Sure," Sam told him. "I'll run home and change and until I get back you'll probably be done with your session."

Daniel was silent a long moment. "Yeah."

"Daniel?" Sam stopped and knelt in front of him. "Is it okay if I put my hands on your knees?""

Daniel nodded. "It's good." He covered her hands with his right. "Just need a moment." He took a few deeper breaths and then tilted his head. "They're...the prosthetics are...Sam what if I can't..."

"You can," she told him. She swiped at her face when she felt tears gather. "You can."

"Don't cry," he told her, reached out with his left arm, brushed her cheek. "Sometimes it's just...everything comes at me in a rush." He lifted his head, set his jaw. "Let's go."

* * * *

"I hear congratulations are in order, Colonel Carter," Daniel said as they finished their meal in the small outdoor garden. He reached onto his lap and held out a bag. "I even went shopping."

Sam smiled as she took it and opened it to find a small plush monkey with glasses. "He'll have a place of honor in my office," she told Daniel before kissing him on the cheek.

"I also wanted to thank you," Daniel said a little while later. "For everything." He gestured at his body.

"Everything?" The word came out more harshly than she'd intended.

"Yes, everything." Daniel backed up his chair a bit and reached out towards her. "Your using the Tok'ra device accelerated my healing by months. Saved me countless operations."

"It didn't save your eyes or your hand or your feet," Sam said bitterly.

Daniel shook his head. "I don't think even a sarcophagus could grow back missing limbs or eyes." He leaned forward. "Janet told me you collapsed afterwards and were in the infirmary for almost a week."

Sam said nothing and Daniel continued. 

"You didn't fail me, Sam. Please believe that. And don't think I haven't had my share of cursing at the universe and will continue to do so. But I keep thinking that Jack..." his voice cracked. "Jack and Teal'c would want us to continue living."

"I miss them so much," Sam confessed. "I keep thinking Colonel O'Neill is going to come into my lab. That Teal'c is in his quarters practicing kel-no-reem."

She looked at Daniel who had gone very still, his right hand trembling slightly. 

"I never told you—and I guess it's no problem with you knowing now. Jack and I...he wanted to retire. I kept persuading him to stay on." Daniel shook his head. "I suppose I should be grateful I have no memory of that last mission. That my last memory of Jack and me is of us sitting on his roof and looking at the stars."

Sam couldn't hold back her tears, the hell with being a colonel in the United States Air Force. And she held on to Daniel as tightly as he held on to her. 

Somehow, some way, she and Daniel were going to come through this.

Seven years later

"And that is why we always always check our translations," Daniel finished to the sound of laughter. He clicked off the board and listened as his students filed out. They were the very best of the best—a mix of civilians and Air Force cadets singled out to work at the SGC.

He gathered his laptop and other electronics before putting them in his bag. 

"C'mon, Winnie, time to go home." He reached down to grab Winnie's harness and felt a cold wet nose before she bumped into his leg as if to say she was ready to work.

"Doctor Jackson." A voice called out to him as he made his way across the campus. The person came up to him and he could feel the woman's body heat as she stood in front of him.

"General Carter is requesting your presence at the mountain," she said. "Captain Havers, sir," she added. "I'm your transport."

"You know what it's about?" Daniel asked as they walked.

"I don't, sir. I'm sorry," she said. 

He leaned back in the car, glad for the air conditioning. And all he'd wanted was to go home and relax this evening. He touched his watch, heard the time. Guess that relaxing was going to have to wait.

Winnie guided him through halls that were still familiar—Daniel was needed at the SGC even if his duties were different.

He went to the briefing room as he'd been instructed.

"Daniel," Sam said and came over to him. 

Someone else was in the room—he wasn't sure who. Not someone who was normally there. He hated when people forgot to tell him who was there or didn't introduce themselves.

"Daniel."

Oh. It was him. "Paul? Paul Davis?" Daniel held out his hand, dropped Winnie's harness.

"In the flesh," Paul said.

"Or do I need to address you as a general too?" Daniel asked. He heard Sam snort.

"You don't even call me General Carter," she said.

"Paul is fine," he said. 

He was still wearing the same aftershave after all these years. Daniel remembered sitting next to him, watching Jack and Teal'c on a submarine being overtaken by...he shuddered at the memory, vivid in his mind even though took effort to picture things like Jack's smile or the color of Sam's eyes or Teal'c's strong hands.

Paul's hand was warm around his—he could feel a callus on the side of Paul's middle finger, and on his palm. 

"It's good to see you, Daniel," Paul said with just the briefest hesitation. 

Despite Sam's work with the healing device, despite all the surgeries, there was only so much that could be done. Daniel knew the scars on his face were probably a shock to someone who had known him before. He felt the skin under his fingers every time he took a shower. And Paul hadn't seen him in years. Speaking of which...

"Why are you here?" The question came out harsher than he'd meant or maybe not. Maybe he did want Paul to feel off kilter.

"Shall we sit down?" Sam asked. Her voice was slightly strained. 

Daniel moved across the room, pulled out a chair and felt Winnie brush by him to assume her usual post under the table by his feet.

"Coffee is at two o clock," Sam told him and Daniel took the mug with relief.

"Now does someone mind telling me what's going on?"

Winnie shifted and he touched her head lightly, the feel of her fur under his fingers soothing.

"The Raeteri," Paul said. "They've requested the honorable Doctor Daniel Jackson visit their home-world."

Daniel placed his hand flat on the table—hopefully that would stop the trembling he felt in his fingers.

"I hope they were informed that I don't go off-world." His voice was surprisingly even—he was proud of that. "And why would you know that and not Sam?"

"I've been invited too," Paul said. His voice came from across the table.

"Why?" Daniel didn't care that he sounded petulant—he felt anger building and had no idea where it was coming from. "You've never had contact with the Raeteri."

He had—a mission away from SG-1 when he and Jack had been at odds, when Jack hadn't seemed to care, before they became lovers. 

But it hadn't been on the Raeteri home-world. They'd come across the scouting party—a rag tag group of people hunting for the answer to a riddle that promised salvation for their world. SG-11 and Daniel had found it. Well, SG-11 had; Daniel had provided the translation and the Raeteri had solved their riddle. He still wasn't quite sure what the answer had been.

He remembered wishing he could return with them—see another world, explore another history. And now...well now was now.

"You evidently mentioned my name," Paul said. "The Raeteri have long memories."

"It really doesn't matter though does it?" Daniel said. "I..."

"You will," Sam said and her voice was in command mode.

"I can't." Daniel could be just as stubborn. 

"You're going, Daniel, along with General Davis and SG-11," Sam said. "The Raeteri could be an important ally."

Daniel concentrated on his breathing. In, out, in, out. "The Raeteri don't have a working Stargate." He knew that much.

"Then it's a good thing we have the Odyssey," Sam said. 

"How can I take Winnie?" Daniel touched her harness. He'd spent the first three years of his darkness without her. He needed her.

"Dog food already beamed up," Sam said. He heard the rustle of her uniform as she stood. "Paul—perhaps you'd leave us for a bit?"

"I'll see you...later," Paul said and Daniel sat listening to his footsteps.

"Your hand, Daniel," Sam said and he reached out without thinking about it. "Come with me."

He trusted Sam in a way he hadn't trusted anyone else since his injuries. 

"Stay," he told Winnie and she let out a huff of breath and groaned.

He kept his hand on her elbow as she wound her way through the halls, her only words when she gave him a warning about a step or other danger.

The room they entered was cooler and quiet. Sam closed a door behind them.

"Reach out," Sam told him and he reached out with his left arm, the end of the stump brushing against what he recognized as wood.

"We're in the chapel," Sam said, her voice soft and low. She touched his right hand, guided it to the same panel. "Here."

He let his fingers rest on the letters, traced them slowly. Colonel Jack O'Neill along with the date of his death. He moved to the name below. Teal'c.

"Colonel O'Neill, Teal'c—they always believed in you," Sam whispered. "I do too."

Daniel swallowed hard. He put his hand flat on the wood—there were other names there too, too many. Robert's was there, and Kawalsky's and General Hammond's and more that he didn't know.

"One more stop," Sam said. He took her elbow once again.

They were in the Gateroom. He could feel the space—the sheer size of the Gate-- in a way he never had when he could see. She led him up the ramp, guided his hand to the ring. 

"I wasn't on that first mission," she began. "But I heard all about it from Feretti and the colonel. You stepped through without knowing what was truly on the other side, with only your confidence that you could get everyone home."

Daniel remembered—the dry heat of Abydos, the feel of Sha're's curls in his fingers as they lay in their room at night, the taste of moonshine on his tongue, and the weight of his robes.

He roamed over the chevron beneath his fingers, cool and sharp. 

"I'll go," he told her. 

* * * *

He'd grown used to the hum of the ship—something he'd not really noticed when he still had his vision. Winnie, not to his surprise, had taken to space travel as she did to anything else. Just did her job of keeping him safe. 

And he had to admit, Paul had been an enjoyable companion. They spent hours talking about everything from movies...Yes, Paul, he'd told him, I can still enjoy a movie to books and cooking and their hopes for the SGC.

SG-11 had two new members and neither Daniel nor Paul knew if those two members would be welcome on Raeteri. Daniel pulled up the mission report, spent hours listening to his software read it to him repeatedly and went to bed with headaches trying to keep all the protocols he'd learned straight.

"You okay?" Paul asked him one evening two days out from their destination.

"Fine," Daniel pushed his plate away. The meat hadn't been cut and was too tough to cut with his fork. 

"I don't think you are," Paul said. Daniel heard the scrape of a knife against plastic. "And here. Chicken at four, corn at twelve, and potatoes at nine."

Daniel took up his fork and speared a piece of chicken. "Thanks."

"No problem," Paul said with that way he had of deflecting. "And I really don't think you are okay."

"What makes you think that?" Daniel asked after he finished chewing. 

"You look tired. And you've got a..." Paul stopped and then continued. "on your forehead."

"Uh, much as I appreciate your concern, you need to use words. I can't see, remember?"

"Your forehead is all crunched up. You've got a crease between your eyebrows, like you're worried," Paul told him.

"I'll be fine." Daniel didn't mention the pain or the headache.

"Yeah," Paul said. "Like you told me you were fine years ago and then fainted from exhaustion."

"I was recovering from an operation," Daniel said. 

"And you didn't tell anyone you were feeling bad." Paul wasn't going to let it go.

"Okay. I have a headache," Daniel said. "There. Happy?"

"Actually no. Concerned would be a better term." Paul made a tapping noise. "You done?"

"Yeah." Daniel stood up, but Paul took the plate from his hand. "I'm perfectly capable of getting rid of my plate. You forget I live alone back home."

"I know you're capable. I'm just being nice," Paul said. "And I didn't forget. You've reminded me of it almost every day."

"Come, Winnie," he said, taking her harness. They headed towards his quarters and he soon heard hurrying footsteps behind him.

"I told you, I'm okay," Daniel said. "Do you not give up?"

"You were fine five minutes ago," Paul pointed out.

Daniel sighed and let out his breath in a whoosh. "What is it with you? Why the sudden concern?" Damn it, he'd lost count of the doors.

"It's not a sudden concern. I've been...well never mind," Paul said. He took Daniel's arm.

Daniel jerked it away. "Don't do that. Don't ever do that to me."

"I'm sorry," Paul said and then repeated it. "I didn't think."

Daniel touched the wall and knew he had no choice. "I lost count." When Paul didn't say anything, he continued. "Of the doors. Fifth door in this hall but I..." He hated this, hated being out of his element.

"Two more," Paul said and waited.

"Okay then," Daniel nodded and trailed his left arm along the wall and counted. He heard the door whoosh open and paused. "You want to come in?"

Paul said nothing and Daniel figured he was nodding because it was a few moments later when Paul said yes.

He bent down to remove Winnie's harness, filled her food and water dishes after spending a few minutes petting her. 

"Off duty," he told her and he grinned as he heard her lapping up her water.

"She's beautiful," Paul said after Daniel motioned towards one of the chairs.

"She is to me," Daniel agreed. 

He knew she was a black lab, that she had a white patch of fur on her chest and the tip of her tail. Sam had described her in great detail. But more importantly he knew that if he scratched her left ear, she would lean into his hand and give a sigh that sounded almost human, that she loved the soft squirrel toy more than any of the others he'd bought her and would carry it in her mouth each evening when she was off duty. He knew she slept underneath the podium when he taught, that she loved running and chasing balls in his backyard, and that to her his scars didn't matter.

"I really am sorry about earlier," Paul said. "I should have..." The chair creaked slightly. 

Daniel shrugged. "You already apologized." He leaned back in his own chair and rubbed his forehead.

"You really do have a bad headache don't you?" Paul asked. "Maybe I should go."

"You can stay," Daniel told him. "Just had to do too much concentrating today."

They chatted awhile, nothing of consequence, and Daniel felt himself relax a bit more, the headache becoming more of a nuisance than the hard pain of earlier.

"I do know some massage," Paul said when Daniel rubbed at his forehead again. "I could...well if you don't mind."

"I don't..." Daniel hesitated. But damn it, sometimes he longed for another's touch—just to remind himself he was human. "Yeah, sure."

"You want to lie down on the bed?" Paul asked. 

Daniel smiled at the horrified tone that Paul's voice took as he continued. "I mean, not that I'm...I just thought it might be easier on you."

Daniel nodded. He went into the small bedroom and sat down and then felt very self-conscious. His legs hurt but Paul...

"What's wrong?" Paul asked from the doorway.

"I really need to take off my prosthetics," Daniel said. "And I..."

"Listen, how about you get comfortable however you need to and you call me when you're ready?" Paul suggested with an air of confidence Daniel didn't feel. "You don't need to do this if you don't want."

"No. I...look, I have a lot of scars. Even though Sam used the healing device, there was only so much she could do. And I mean, I've never seen them but I'm sure they aren't pretty."

He heard Paul swallow hard, once, twice. "They don't matter to me." and then the door closed gently and Daniel was left alone to decide.

* * * *

"You comfortable?" Paul asked. "I"m going to start with your shoulders."

Daniel nodded and shivered as Paul put his hands on his shoulders. 

"Are my hands too cold?"

"No," Daniel said. "You're fine."

Paul nodded and began to gently knead Daniel's shoulders. He'd found some lotion in his own kit and underneath his hands, Daniel's skin warmed. The skin under his fingers was knotted in places, smooth and shiny in others. He looked down at Daniel who had his eyes closed, eyes that he knew were a plastic acrylic but that mirrored the blue ones he remembered so very well. 

Daniel's left shoulder and arm were a ropy mass of scars, something Paul hadn't realized as Daniel had always had on long sleeves.

"Why no prosthetic for your hand?" he asked. "On second thought it's really none of my business is it?"

"No, it's not," Daniel murmured. "But to answer you, I tried. It just didn't work out for me that well."

Paul was silent as he continued his ministrations, working on tight muscles and grinning as he heard the small grunts and sighs Daniel gave as he relaxed.

"Where'd you learn this?" Daniel said when Paul moved onto his legs. 

"I had a partner who was really into the whole massage and oils thing. We took some classes together." Paul kept his touch light even though the thought of Liam brought back memories he'd rather forget.

"Jack never..." Daniel said, his voice gone very quiet. He threw his left arm up over his face. "Sorry."

"Don't be. You loved him. It wasn't ever a secret," Paul said. He hesitated. "It's okay to talk about him to me. If you want, if you need to."

Daniel let out a little sound that wasn't quite a sob. "Maybe sometime, but not now."

"Okay," Paul said. Daniel pulled his leg away as Paul touched his knee.

"Tickles," Daniel said but then relaxed again. 

He'd been a coward, Paul knew. Liam and he had split two years ago, when Paul realized the only person who mattered to Liam was Liam. And then he'd been promoted and advocating for the SGC and schmoozing with the politicians took way more of his time than he'd wanted. 

Still he could have made an excuse to visit the SGC any time. He talked to General Carter multiple times per week. No, he'd avoided the SGC because he wanted to avoid Daniel. Because like Liam, he was a selfish bastard and didn't want to see Daniel hurt and Daniel not the Daniel he knew. And maybe just maybe he was afraid of opening his heart again to anyone.

It wasn't fair, he thought. Jack O'Neill was supposed to take over the SGC when Hammond retired and he and Daniel were supposed to live happily ever after, even if Paul's heart ached at the thought. 

"Paul?" Daniel was propped up on his elbows, head tilted in Paul's direction. "What's wrong?"

Paul looked down, saw the moisture where Daniel's leg ended and wiped his face. "I was thinking, remembering."

Daniel had a quizzical expression on his face and pulled his leg away from Paul's grasp. "I guess it looks pretty bad."

"It's not that," Paul said. "Please don't think it's that." He took a deep breath, let it out. "I was---damn it, Daniel it isn't fair."

Daniel looked at him—well Paul knew it wasn't really looking but he couldn't think of any other way to describe it. His mouth turned up on the right side in a crooked grin and then he laughed. "Not fair? Are you five?"

Paul found his own mouth turning up in an answering smile and suddenly he was laughing too. "I guess that did sound rather stupid."

They sat on the bed, laughing hard and then....then Daniel was on his knees and his hand was warm on Paul's cheek and he was kissing him.

* * * *

What had he done? Daniel pulled back, dropped his hand, and sank back.

"I'm sorry. Oh God, Paul, I'm so sorry." Daniel could feel heat rising to his face, flooding his body.

Paul was strangely silent. It was one of the things Daniel minded most—the inability to see other people's expressions in the silence.

"Go," Daniel said softly and when there was no movement on the bed, no sound from Paul, he raised his voice. "Go! I said leave!"

"Daniel," Paul began.

"Get out," Daniel told him. "Just...please."

"I'll—well tomorrow then," Paul said. His voice sounded sad, hurt. 

Daniel sank back onto the pillow. How could he have been so stupid? For the first time since his accident, he'd felt the stirring of something. He threw his arm over his eyes. It had felt so good—the softness of someone's lips under his, the spicy sweet taste of the ginger cake Paul had eaten, the way Paul had touched him as if his scars truly didn't matter.

His nose filled and pressure built under his eyes and he fought it, not wanting to give in to emotion. He heard Winnie come to the other side of the bed and he reached down, touched her soft fur, before she jumped up to join him.

"I'm such a fool," Daniel told her as she stretched out next to him, his voice catching. She licked the end of his arm. "Yeah, you're the only one who doesn't know it."

* * * *

Daniel adjusted his grip on his cane. Three days without Winnie was going to be hard but they'd discovered that the Raeteri representatives who had come onto the ship had allergic reactions to her.

"You'll take good care of her?" Daniel asked.

"I will, sir," the airman said. "She'll be fine."

Daniel reached down, petted her, kissed the top of her head. "Be good," he told her.

He straightened, felt one of SG-11 come closer.

"Are you ready, Doctor Jackson?" Colonel Demmings asked.

He nodded and then Paul was at his side. 

"Do you need me to take your arm?" Paul asked.

Daniel remembered his tumble when they'd been transported up to the Odyssey and he nodded. "Yes, thank you." He'd kept his distance over the last day, using the excuse of going over long ago recorded protocols with SG-11 and Paul as a way of pretending the kiss had never happened.

For his part, Paul seemed to take it in stride. But three days on Raeteri to hammer out a treaty and celebrate the help SG-11 and Daniel had given them all those years ago—three days was a long time.

He tightened his fingers on Paul's elbow and then he was standing somewhere else and Paul's arm was around him.

"Give it a minute," Paul murmured and Daniel took a few deep breaths before nodding an okay.

The sounds and smells were an assault to his senses. After the filtered air of the ship, the smell of other beings and growing things was strong. The Raeteri were tall—he'd remembered that about them. Seven feet was considered short and Daniel could feel a group surrounding them.

"Escort," Paul said in his ear. "Six of them—that's a good number, right?"

"Yeah," Daniel said. "Six and multiples of." 

"They're wearing some sort of robe, bright red and orange head-dresses."

"Not sure about that," Daniel said. "Weapons?"

There was a delay. "Sorry," Paul said. "I was shaking my head. No, no weapons."

They were whisked into some sort of transport and Daniel moved his hand to Paul's knee. Paul covered his hand and squeezed it.

"I'm here," Paul said. "You can count on me."

"I'll hold you to that," Daniel said and focused on breathing.

* * * *

His head was pounding. Hours of listening to the Raeteri council shout at each other despite their very strong support for the treaty was tiring. 

His own brief speech had taken place nearly four hours before—and Paul's had concluded two hours ago. But evidently the Raeteri enjoyed the process of airing their opinions even if they all agreed.

Beside him, Lieutenant Baptiste shifted her weight and he heard her yawn.

"They're quite long-winded, aren't they?" Daniel murmured to her.

"It's interesting, Doctor Jackson, " she said, her Trinidadian heritage evident in the lilt of her voice.

Daniel smiled. He imagined her wide-eyed at the sights of the council. She'd been one of his first students and he felt honored to be on a mission with her. 

He startled at the sound of even louder shouting, all the Raeteri raising their voices together and the pounding of hands and feet on tables and floors.

"Paul?" 

"They're all standing and doing some sort of communal cheer," Paul told him. "Holding up a, well, it looks like some sort of tablet and there are lots of flashes going off."

"Flashes?"

"Cameras—or what passes for them here," Paul reassured him. "You're safe."

He and Paul and Baptiste were pulled to their feet and he felt hands patting his back, his head. He wanted to pull away but resisted that very strong urge.

"Now we feast," one of the Raeteri said and started to pull Daniel along.

"I can't walk as fast as you," Daniel said, unsure of his footing and growing more and more disoriented. He felt for his cane and couldn't find it. Had he put it down? He couldn't remember. 

More Raeteri joined them and they were outside, the heat hitting him like a wall. He was surrounded by people he didn't know, unable to get them to leave him, to listen. He tried to stop walking but the Raeteri just tugged harder as if Daniel was a child that was being hurried along to school.

There were smells he didn't recognize—sharp and sour and he grew afraid. His breath came more quickly, and he stumbled, fell to his knees, his weight coming down on his right hand. The crowd surged around him, and he huddled with his arms over his head as they passed.

"Paul? Baptiste? Demmings?" His voice was lost in the din of celebration and excitement. Hang on, he told himself, hang on. He wished for Winnie—she wouldn't have let this happen. There was a lull in the press of Raeteri and Daniel put his hands to the ground, pushed himself up.

His cane was definitely gone and he stood for a few minutes just breathing. He had no idea where he was and where the others had gone. Stay calm, he ordered himself. Just stay calm. Someone will come for you. It's not like they'll forget you came on the mission. 

He took a step forward and stopped. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

"Daniel!" 

Daniel pulled Paul into a hug when he got close and he just stood there holding him and breathing.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry we got separated. Are you sure you're okay? You're not hurt? The others are searching for you too." Paul's words tumbled out.

"I'm okay. I'm okay," Daniel said. And he was—mostly. Shaken up but okay. "I lost my cane."

God, could he sound any more pathetic?

Paul ran his hands over Daniel's back, down his arms.

Daniel winced when Paul's fingers brushed over his right forearm and wrist.

"You mind if I look?" Paul asked. His hands left Daniel's arm for a moment. "The others are on their way."

Daniel shrugged out of his suit jacket, felt Paul push up his sleeve.

"Oh."

"What does that mean?" Daniel asked.

"Bruising. Lots of bruising and it's swelling."

SG-11 came closer and Daniel took a step back—not wanting to be crowded yet again.

He closed his eyes, let his mind drift while they talked. The adrenaline that had been coursing through his body earlier was quickly dissipating and he felt nauseated and tired and like he wanted to sit back down and have a temper tantrum.

"...I think it's best, don't you, Daniel?" Paul was saying and Daniel realized they'd had a whole conversation without him.

"What?" Daniel shook his head. "I can go to the feast."

"We are most sorrowful for our inconsiderations," a Raeteri said. "Most sorrowful. The honored Doctor Scholar Daniel Jackson will forgive?"

"Yes, I forgive," Daniel said. Damn but his wrist was starting to throb. 

"Doctor Scholar Daniel Jackson and General Soldier Paul Davis will leave before the feast? It is for the best if the Doctor Scholar is injured. We shall drink in your honors." The Raeteri pressed her hands to Daniel's head. "You and your mate shall always be welcomed on our world. As shall the rest of your kind."

"Thank you," Daniel said. "The Raeteri are likewise welcome on ours. You are a most hospitable people and I regret I am unable to attend the feast." He nudged Paul.

"As am I," Paul said dutifully. He wrapped his arm around Daniel's shoulders. 

Daniel was cold for just a second and then he found himself on the floor of the Odyssey with people around him. He let himself down into the beckoning rush of sleep.

* * * *

"I just want to go to my room—I'm perfectly capable of resting there."

Paul stood a short distance away while Winnie sat at his side, her ears flicking back and forth at her master's raised voice. She looked up at Paul and cocked her head. "Yeah, that's our Daniel."

"You fainted, Doctor Jackson. You have a sprained wrist and multiple bruises on your chest and back. We needed to give you an IV because you were dehydrated," the young doctor argued.

"And I'm hungry and I want to get out of my suit and I know what I need." 

There was a tone to Daniel's voice Paul didn't like. A tenseness that he remembered from that long ago time when Daniel watched his friends and teammates being attacked. Daniel was close to breaking and didn't need an audience.

"He's right," Paul said, stepping forward. "Winnie and I will see he gets a good meal and goes to bed."

Daniel's face showed relief and the doctor gave a sharp nod. Sometimes it was good to be the general, Paul thought.

"Winnie's right here," Paul said when the doctor stepped aside and Daniel had slid from the bed. 

Daniel took her harness with his wrapped right hand and winced. Paul cringed in sympathy—Daniel's fingers were swollen and weren't able to close more than a fraction.

"You want to take my arm?"

Daniel turned to him and put out his left arm. Paul took it.

"We'll take it slow, okay? You want to go to the mess? Or should we get something for your room?"

"What time is it?" Daniel asked.

"Oh one hundred—and by the way, SG-11 came back a little bit ago and are all in bed. Seems the Raeterian tea served at the feast packed quite the punch." Paul kept talking as they made their slow way to the mess hall. 

"It's nearly empty," Paul said and he felt more than heard Daniel's sigh of relief. "What do you want to eat?" He listed the choices available—the Odyssey had a crew on different shifts—there was always food being served.

"Sandwich. Doesn't matter what kind," Daniel said and headed towards a table with Winnie, slow and listing slightly to one side.

Paul sighed as he watched the halting progress. He grabbed a wrapped sandwich and some soup and a glass of water.

Daniel was sitting in a chair, his right arm propped on the table, his left arm wrapped around his ribs. Paul unwrapped the sandwich and pulled it into smaller pieces.

"It's ham and cheese, I think," he said. "Four o clock. I got some soup too."

Daniel nodded and gingerly took a piece of sandwich in his swollen fingers. He chewed determinedly. "Is there something to drink?"

"Got you water." Paul popped a straw in the glass and pushed it towards Daniel. 

Daniel took a long pull on the straw and ate another bite of sandwich. "What's the soup?"

"Beef barley. At twelve o'clock."

Daniel took the spoon in his hand, even managed to get it near his mouth before it spilled its contents on the table. He tried again, but his grip couldn't quite manage.

"I can..."

"No, no damn it, you can't," Daniel said, his voice rising in distress. He used his left arm to sweep the tray off the table. "You can't fix it. Fuck."

The few other people in the mess looked at Paul with alarm while a young airman appeared with a mop. He shook his head at the woman and mouthed, later. She nodded and hurried away.

"Let's get to your room," Paul said. Winnie stood and nudged at Daniel's knee, making a small whimper.

Daniel stood, his body tight and vibrating with anger. He took Winnie's harness and despite the look of pain that came over his face, he gripped it.

Paul followed as Daniel made his way through the hallway, watched as Daniel leaned into the walls despite Winnie's best efforts, heard the catch of Daniel's breath.

They got to Daniel's room with no witnesses. Daniel fumbled with Winnie's harness.

"Is it okay if I do it?" Paul asked.

"Do it," Daniel said and took a few steps towards the bed.

Winnie shook herself and went to grab one of her toys. She brought it to Daniel when he sat on the bed, pushed it into his hand, tail wagging.

"Sorry, Winnie," he told her and his voice cracked. 

"Daniel?" 

Winnie rested her head on Daniel's knee as Daniel began to shake. She looked back at Paul. 

"I know," he told her. "I've got it."

"Don't touch me," Daniel snapped when Paul approached.

"Okay. What do you want me to do?"

Daniel just shook his head and then to Paul's horror, let out a sob.

"Daniel, please." Paul sat beside him, not quite touching. "Let me help."

Paul knew Daniel was strong, resilient. But the man had been through hell down on the planet. Daniel was exhausted from three days of being in an unfamiliar setting, having control taken from him, his usual means of getting around taken from him, and an assault to his remaining senses. And now to be unable to care for himself in the way he'd become accustomed was yet another blow.

Daniel turned into him, his sobs becoming louder. Paul hesitated and then wrapped Daniel in an embrace. 

"I was so scared," Daniel said some time later. "I couldn't—didn't---it was like the first days all over again."

Paul didn't know what to say. What could he say? He couldn't begin to imagine all Daniel had had to relearn, what it must have been like for Daniel to wake up into a world irrevocably changed into one of darkness and loss.

"Yeah?" 

"If Sam hadn't been able to use the healing device, I'd be even worse off." Daniel leaned even further into Paul. "There were inhalation burns—my lungs. Chances are I wouldn't have made it. Sometimes I wonder--"

"Don't say that," Paul said. "I'm selfish enough to be glad you survived."

"I wanted to die. For the first year or so, I wanted to die," Daniel said very softly. "Not every day, of course, but there were times I wished that Sam wouldn't have used the device—that she would have let me go."

Paul was silent for a bit. "And now?" He watched Daniel touch Winnie's head. 

"I've found a new life," Daniel said. "Did you know Lieutenant Baptiste was in the first class I saw through the program? This is the first time I got to see one of my students in action in the field."

"And?"

"I know I'm doing the right thing," Daniel said. He wiped at his face. "I'm dirty, need to get cleaned up."

Paul looked at the wrapped arm, the slow way Daniel was moving.

"Tell me what you need."

"The damn doctor tied the gown in the back," Daniel said. He turned away from Paul. "If you can..."

"No problem," Paul said and undid the ties of the short gown. "Anything else?"

"I'll be okay," Daniel said as he undid the button of his slacks. 

"I'll get you some water—and the doctor gave you some pain pills didn't he?"

Daniel shook his head. "Not gonna take them." 

"Okay," Paul said and went in the small bathroom, busied himself with getting a glass of water, wetting a washcloth.

When he came out again, Daniel was sitting on the side of the bed once again. 

"Ow," Paul said as he took in the technicolor bruises spread across Daniel's chest. "That looks painful." When Daniel said nothing, he set the glass on the small table by the bed. "Lie down."

"I don't think a massage is a very good idea," Daniel said. "It didn't turn out so great the last time." He lay back on the pillows with a sigh.

"I thought it did," Paul said softly.

Daniel sat back up with a groan. "What?"

"I said I thought it did. The kiss was a very nice bonus." Paul sat down on the edge of the bed. "Lie back, please?"

Daniel frowned but did as Paul said. "You didn't say anything."

"You didn't give me a chance," Paul pointed out. "I have a washcloth. Your face is dirty. Is it okay?"

Daniel nodded and moaned as the cool cloth touched his face. "Feels good."

"You're gonna have a black eye," Paul said. "You sure you don't want a pain pill?"

"I'm sure," Daniel said, his voice suddenly gone tight. There was more of a story there which Paul figured wasn't his to know.

Paul said nothing, but continued his ministrations. He saw Daniel gradually relax, his breathing becoming more even, slower.

"Stay," Daniel said when Paul stood.

"I'm just putting the washcloth back," Paul told him. 

"Stay the night," Daniel said. "It is night isn't it?"

"Well as much night as it can be on a spaceship," Paul said. "Do you want to talk?" He sat back down on the bed.

Daniel put out a questing arm, sighed as he bumped Paul's. "I want you to lie with me."

"Daniel, I..." Paul felt his eyes fill with tears. Why he didn't know. "I can't—I don't."

Daniel's expression shuttered. "I understand."

And Paul knew he didn't at all. "It's not that. It's not that at all." He rested his hand over Danel's left forearm, started to rub his fingers over the scars. "I walked away from you before—and then you were gone and came back."

Daniel frowned. "I don't--"

Paul put a finger to his lips. "Just listen. All those years ago, when I watched you see Colonel O'Neill on the sub, saw your fear, your anguish, I knew then where your heart was. And mine was with you, and the only way I could keep it safe was to walk away. To keep our relationship on a purely professional level."

"Oh." It was a puff of breath against his hand. "Oh."

"I knew you and Jack were meant to be. You two were like moths to a flame. And I went back to D.C after that and hooked up with Liam."

"So you are with someone," Daniel said. "I get it. I wouldn't want you to cheat."

"Liam and I broke up two years ago," Paul said. "Best thing I ever did. And before you say anything more, I avoided you because I was scared."

"I under--"

"No. No you don't. You don't at all. It wasn't your scars or your blindness. Well maybe a little, because I was scared to see you in pain, but I was more afraid of what I might feel."

Daniel didn't say anything and Paul wondered if opening his heart had been a mistake after all.

* * * *

It was too much. Daniel's stomach flip-flopped. Paul had loved him? Paul did love him? He still wasn't sure and he couldn't read Paul's expression, look into Paul's eyes to know, to search. 

Paul was still stroking his arm and despite the pain, Daniel lifted his right hand to Paul's face, touched the planes of his cheekbones and nose, felt the soft smile of Paul's lips.

"I'm so lonely," Daniel said and then closed his lips tight because he hadn't wanted to admit that. "And I don't know if—I mean—I loved Jack."

"You loved Sha're too," Paul said, his voice just above a whisper. "Your heart has room for more."

"I need--" Daniel felt a lump in his throat and he forced the words out. "I need to feel alive again." To feel like someone could love me, to feel like I'm human, but those were words he didn't think he could ever say.

He heard and felt Paul's sigh. God, he was just making everything worse.

"I want more, Daniel. I need more than just a quick fuck," Paul admitted. 

"And I don't know if I can give you that," Daniel said. He felt like he wanted to cry with the way his body ached—more than the bruises and the sprained wrist. "I—you're in D.C., I'm in the Springs."

The bed shifted as Paul stood. Well, Daniel told himself, guess that is that, but then he heard the sound of buttons whispering against fabric, footsteps as Paul moved around the room, and then the dip of the bed as Paul lay down next to him, naked and warm and oh so alive.

"Thank you," Daniel said. He shivered as Paul touched him, ran his fingers down Daniel's chest. 

"I don't know if this is the best idea," Paul said. "You've got to be hurting."

If only you knew, Daniel wanted to say, but he decided a kiss was better than words.

"That was...wow," Paul said and Daniel couldn't help but grin and then his mouth was covered by Paul returning the favor. Paul moved his hands lower and Daniel felt a stirring he hadn't in a long time.

It felt so good—to be touched by someone with reverence, with something other than clinically. Paul chuckled against his stomach and Daniel tensed.

"Relax," Paul said, his voice low. "Let me."

Daniel arched his hips as Paul went lower, as Paul licked him from root to tip.

It hurt and it felt wonderful and he could pretend if nothing else that Paul found him attractive and not ugly, that maybe someone could love him again.

"Can't, can't, can't," he chanted as his breath came more quickly. He came with a shudder and he found himself crying.

"Daniel, Daniel," Paul said and he was pulled into an embrace against Paul's chest. Paul said nothing, just stroked his hair and made soft sounds of comfort while Daniel cried—for what and who he'd lost and maybe just maybe for what he'd found.

He drifted and just before he fell asleep, he swore he heard the words I've always loved you.

* * * *

Winnie brought a ball to Daniel as he sat in a conference room working on his report.

"Sorry, sweetie, Daddy can't throw it for you," he told her. He knocked it to the floor with his left arm and evidently that was enough as he heard her run around the room with it before returning it to him. 

"Save," Daniel said to the computer and gave himself over to Winnie's demands. 

"We'll soon be home," he said. "And we'll go for some nice long walks in the park, and you can run in the backyard when we're not working." Winnie returned the ball yet again.

"Can I join you?" Paul's voice came from near the door and Daniel startled.

He turned in his chair—slowly because there were still some bruises that ached even after three days. "Well a walk from DC to the Springs or vice versa would be a long one."

"About that," Paul began. There was the sound of a chair being pulled back from the table and the thump of Paul's elbows on the table.

"Yeah? We both knew this is just a fling," Daniel said. He dropped the ball for Winnie once more. 

"You're perfectly capable of flying alone to D.C., and you know it," Paul said. "And it's not like I can't get flights to the Springs."

"It's just better this way," Daniel said. Damn it, why did Paul have to push?

"For who? You?" Paul asked. "Do you remember what the Raeteri said before we came back to the ship?"

Daniel though back. His heart had been pounding, his wrist throbbing, and Paul had been supporting him. And the Raeteri said...

"But we're not," Daniel said.

"Maybe not now," Paul said in that exasperatingly even tone he had. "But they saw something. Mates. They thought we were mated."

"But we're not," Daniel insisted.

Paul's breath came out in a huff. "You can be the most obstinate man I've ever known. Damn it, Daniel, I can see it, the Raeteri could see it. Why can't you?"

"Well I am blind, for one," Daniel said. There—good choice, deflect. He congratulated myself.

"You know damn well what I mean," Paul's voice was raised and in all the time, Daniel had known him, he'd never once heard Paul raise his voice. "I love you. I've loved you for a long time."

"I can't lose again," Daniel said because Paul deserved his honesty. "Look at me. You really want to be stuck with this?" He laughed, anger and bitterness that soured his mouth. 

"So what? You're going to punish yourself the rest of your life for Jack's death? For Teal'c's? For your own injuries? You think that this is some sort of penance for Jack's dying? For fuck's sake, Daniel, it was an accident."

Daniel got to his feet. "I fucking know it was an accident. I fucking know how it happened. I was there, remember? And I fucking remember what it was like to wake up and find that my best friend, my lov...my lov...lover was dead and I was blind and didn't have my goddamn eyes and feet and hand. I remember what it was like to feel the scars and learn how to walk again when I couldn't see where the hell I was going or even feel the floor at first. I fucking know what's it's like to wake up every morning if I'm even sure it's morning and know that my world is going to always be dark and that I'm never going to see another sunrise or sunset or read a book other than through my ears. I fucking know all that, Paul and I fucking know that if I open my heart again--" Daniel stopped, his voice gone hoarse, his mouth dry. 

Paul was close—Daniel could feel his body heat. 

"I'm afraid," Daniel finally said, ashamed at the way his voice cracked as if he was going through puberty again. "I'm afraid." And this time he couldn't bring himself to do more than whisper.

"If it helps," Paul said into his ear. "I'm afraid too, but I'm willing to give it a try. I can't promise I'll be with you forever. But you can't promise me either."

Daniel shook his head and opened his arms and finally his heart and Paul stepped in.

* * * * 

Sam sat at the conference table as SG-11 finished their reports. Daniel kept his head down and Paul kept his eyes on Daniel. Interesting, she thought, although not surprising. 

Every time Paul called, he'd always asked about Daniel and she hadn't missed the look of longing in Paul's eyes when he'd first set eyes on Daniel over a week ago.

She thanked SG-11 for their reports. Daniel stood to leave with them.

"Daniel, I'd like you to stay," Sam said. 

He raised his eyebrows but sat back down. "Is there a problem?"

"Not a problem," Sam said and she looked over at Paul who nodded. "I think you'll find what I have to say exciting."

He nodded. "I'm waiting with bated breath."

"There are some big changes coming to the SGC," Sam said. 

"You're not leaving are you?" Daniel sounded alarmed.

"The program is going to go public," Sam said. "We're looking at a five year plan to prepare."

Daniel's breath came out in a whoosh. "That's...well, I don't know what to say."

"The great Doctor Jackson speechless," Sam teased. "I have finally reached perfection."

"I'm being transferred to the SGC," Paul said. "I knew before we left."

"And you didn't tell me?" 

Oh, Sam thought, so she had been right.

"You never gave me a chance. You kept interrupting me," Paul pointed out. Oh but the man was good.

Sam leaned back in her chair to watch the show.

"Interrupting you? What about just saying, hey, Daniel, by the way, I'm being transferred to the SGC and you don't have to fly out to..." Daniel stopped and blushed.

"Yeah," Sam said and stood up. "I think I have some paperwork to complete. Feel free to stay and clear up any misconceptions and talk about a transistion plan." 

She couldn't help but sneak a peek over her shoulder right before she went through the door. Daniel and Paul were locked in an embrace and Paul was murmuring something in Daniel's ear. She hoped Paul was telling Daniel how very much he was loved.

* * * *

Five Years Later:

"Come on, Daniel," Cassandra Fraiser-Curtis said and tugged on his hand. "This is our dance."

"The DJ said it was a father-daughter dance," Daniel said as he got to his feet and let Cassie lead him to the dance floor.

"Yes he did, although he should have said uncle-daughter dance." 

The music began to play—As Time Goes By.

"You know if we're going to move, you're going to have to lead," he whispered to Cassie. 

She smiled against his chest as they swayed to the music. 

"This is fine," she said then she pushed a little bit away. "Are you happy?"

"This is your day, Cassie," Daniel told her. "It's all about you. Well you and Michael. I still can't believe you're all grown up and married."

"And you didn't answer my question. Are you happy?"

Daniel smiled down at her. "I am, Cass. I'm very happy."

"Good," she said. "You and Paul—you're a good couple."

She tucked their hands against Daniel's chest.

Daniel listened to the music, heard the murmur of the crowd, heard the DJ announce that everyone was to come to the floor.

"May I cut in?" 

Daniel grinned as Cassie went into Michael's arms. 

"I think you need a partner," Paul said and took Daniel's hand in his. "You really want to dance?"

"I think the venue might frown on us doing what I'd really like," Daniel said. He rested his head on Paul's shoulder. 

Paul brought their joined hands up and placed a kiss on Daniel's right hand over the wedding band that now nestled there. "It's been a good year, hasn't it?"

Daniel smiled and let out a sigh. "A very good year." There was still a lot of work to do—the SGC going public had caused an uproar but also a lot of optimism.

"You ready for the next adventure?" Paul asked him.

Daniel thought of the Odyssey—of Sam's new command, of his and Paul's assignment as ambassadors on that very ship and nodded. "I am." 

With Paul and Winnie by his side, he was ready for whatever his future held—traveling to farther shores with those he loved.


End file.
